


Alles für Dich

by criticaldarling, eternalfury1



Category: Rammstein
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1990s, Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, Epic, Explicit Sexual Content, Flirting, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Paul is the embodiment of sunshine, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, reesh is a little shit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:01:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23835802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/criticaldarling/pseuds/criticaldarling, https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternalfury1/pseuds/eternalfury1
Summary: Paul is a bartender at a small, cheap bar in Berlin. Richard is a regular at said bar. After some stares and teasing from his workmates, Paul decides to befriend the lonely patron.
Relationships: Richard Kruspe/Paul Landers, Till Lindemann/Christian Lorenz
Comments: 19
Kudos: 80





	1. Intro

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! I hope everyone is staying safe and doing well in quarantine! I'm back yet again with another story, but better since i have another co-author who's collabing with me. This was just an idea concocted by my good friend criticaldarling and i at 3am.I hope you enjoy it!

**27/08/91 ; 21:48**

Rain poured heavily outside a dingy little bar in the town of Berlin, the sound of water hitting car's tires occurring every so often. The sign’s light buzzed in the bar's window, in clear need of some sort of fixing.

Paul, a bartender, had his eyes fixed on the lonely raven-haired customer sitting at a farther side of the bar, wondering about him. To him, the customer was quite attractive, yet looked so sad. Wanting to know why he was upset, Paul was snapped out of his curious and concerned trance once Schneider had called his name.

“Why’re you ogling at him, Paulchen? Something special about him, or you just think he’s hot?” He questioned, a smirk on his face.

Immediately, Paul’s face turned red. “N-No! I mean, yeah I think he looks really nice - but still, he looks sad! I think he may have gotten stood up..”

“He didn’t, dumbass,” Oliver called from the restroom, running water from the sink loud as ever. “He’s a regular here. Have you never noticed that?”

Eyes darting once more to the customer, Paul responded, “No! I’m always occupied with making drinks and making sure our customers don’t get shitty service so we don’t fucking get shut down!”

“And apparently looking at cute guys,” Schneider chortled, earning a hard smack on the arm from Paul. “Ow! I’m joking, no need to get aggressive!”

“Be careful, Schneider. Don’t wanna upset the midget.” Oliver returned, leaning against the bar.

“I’ll smack you too,” Paul threatened, raising his hand and ready to strike.

Oliver gasped dramatically. “Oh no, I’m so scared. I’m shaking in my boots. Whatever shall I do?”

With a sigh, and a laugh from Schneider, Paul put his hand down and stopped caring for their teasing. “Let’s just get back to work. I don’t wanna get yelled at by Till for the 50th time this week. And I am not a midget, so shut your mouth!"

Before Oliver could think up a playful comeback, Schneider interrupted; "Looks like your mystery man’s out of alcohol. Why don’t you go ahead and serve ‘em, since you’re so interested in him,” he suggested.

Paul looked to said ‘mystery man,’ who was fiddling with his empty glass. “Okay. But I still think he got stood up,” he left before any of the two could respond, only giving each other dumb grins. They knew Paul was going to make a fool out of himself.

Striding over to the lonely man, Paul put his arms on the bar and leveled with him. “Need another drink?”

He looked up at Paul, tapping on his glass stopping. “Yeah, I'd appreciate it. I had Asbach Uralt brandy,” he slid the cup over to the bartender, who turned to grab and pour the drink for him.

Giving the now filled glass back, Paul’s curiosity got the best of him. “Were you stood up? You seem very upset..”

The customer laughed, which confused Paul greatly. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, nothing. It’s just that I’m here nearly every night, and none of the other bartenders have ever questioned why. Just asked me what I want and left me alone. Not stood up, just lonely,” he grinned, taking a long drink.

“Oh… I see.” That information somehow made Paul feel worse than before. “You just.. have no one?" The only response he got was a nod. "What about family? A mother, maybe a father?”

Wiping his mouth, he responded coolly, "Nah. My parents hated me so I fled for a better life. Now I live in a shithole apartment by myself. But hey, better than living with people who hate you, right?”

Paul nodded, looking down at his now fidgeting fingers. “I’m sorry. That sucks.. but I understand.”

“Mm,” he wiped his mouth, keeping a grip on the now half empty glass. “No need to feel sorry. Like that one guy said, it’s better to be yourself than something you’re not.”

Taking a minute to realize what he’d said, Paul laughed heartily. “That one guy? Haven’t heard that one before,” he smiled wide.

“Thank you, thank you, I’m here all night. Well, no. I gotta get going before I put myself into another alcohol induced coma. I’d actually like to make it home without those piece of shit cops on my ass for me driving side to side viciously because I think it’s funny,” he said, downing the little drink he had left in his glass. “How much?”

“Oh!” Paul blinked, realizing he was staring again. “Um, that’s gonna be DM 5.”

Watching the mystery man fiddle with his wallet, he sighed. “I only have DM 10,” he slid it on the counter to the bartender, standing up and putting his wallet back in his jacket’s pocket. Paul opened his mouth to ask if he wanted change, but shut it when mystery man started talking again. “Keep the change. You’re a nice fella. Maybe I’ll see you again soon.”

Raising his hand weakly to wave goodbye and tell him to ‘have a good night,’ Paul watched as his mystery man left. 

Schneider walked up to Paul with a snide grin and crossed arms once the customer was out of sight. “So, how did it go?”

“I forgot to ask for his name.”


	2. Wer bist du, mysteriöser Fremder?

**01/09/91 ; 20:58**

_“Maybe I’ll see you again soon.”_

Those words rang in Paul’s head for days as though they were a mantra. Absentmindedly cleaning the dirtied glasses, his head perked up once he’d heard someone enter. To his luck, his mystery man had finally returned.

Before Schneider or Oliver could go ahead and ask what he wants, Paul snatched one of the newly cleaned cups and rushed over to where the loner took his seat. “Missed me much?” he teased with a smirk.

“No, no that’s not it at all!” Paul blushed with a slight shout. “I just.. you know what, nevermind. What can I get you to drink tonight?” 

Rubbing the stubble on his chin, mystery man took a look at the list of drinks behind Paul. “Hm.. I’ll just have some rum and coke for tonight.”

“Coming right up!” Paul chirped, going ahead to prepare his drink. “Y’know, you didn’t have to tip me that much last time. You look like you needed the change,” he looked over his shoulder to the grinning man.

He shook his head. “Nah. A few missing Deutsche marks aren't gonna royally fuck me over. Besides, you were quite nice compared to your buddies over there,” he gestured in Oliver and Schneider’s direction. “They just ask what I want and leave. Sometimes they don't even ask, just give me what I order the most and leave.”

Paul furrowed his brows, giving him his drink. “Huh. I’ll have to talk to them about that, they’re not usually like that.”

“Mm, I don’t mind. Probably ‘cause I’m here often? I dunno, nor do I care. I mean, if the same dude was showing up painfully often in my bar I’d just outright tell ‘em to fuck off and get a life.” He took a swig of the drink.

“Regardless of if they show up often or not, that’s not an excuse to be rude to them,” Paul lingered on his words, thinking of what to say before continuing, “if you give me your name, I could probably tell my manager they’re being assholes and you can get a discount or something.”

“If you wanted to know my name that bad, you could’ve just asked,” he replied in an amused tone. “It’s Richard Kruspe. Make sure your manager knows, or I will be having a chat with him.”

Dumbfounded, Paul was trying to think of how to respond to that. Richard laughed. “I’m not actually gonna do that, man! What do you take me for? Some old woman who didn’t get the right order?”

“O-Oh!” Paul laughed, now realizing it was just a joke. “You scared me for a second, looked pretty serious when you said that. Thing is though, my manager would probably give in. He looks scary but he’s not; just a nice fella trying to get by.”

“In that case, I might just have to,” Richard grinned devilishly, taking another long drink, leaving Paul horrified once more. “Nah. I don’t have the time of night to beg for a discount. My acting skills are God-awful, he’d see right through my shit. But you might wanna get back to work, huh?”

“I mean.. it’s Sunday night. Everyone’s either sleeping or watching TV. There’s nothing to do on a Sunday, Richard. God only knows why you came here, spare for the other three people that came.”

“Maybe I came because I missed Paul from the bar who was nice to me,” he shrugged, tapping his glass. “How much is the drink? I’m not feeling very ‘let’s get fucked up’ tonight.”

“DM 3. You’re gonna leave so soon? I was quite enjoying whatever this conversation has turned to.” While he tried to hide it, Paul was being painfully obvious when letting Richard know that he wants to be friends.

“Oh you were, were you now?” he shifted his gaze to Paul rather than the wallet he was fiddling with, trying to get the money out. “Well in that case I might just have to stay a little longer. I was planning on just grabbing a drink and watching whatever’s on TV until I passed out, but some human contact would be nice for once.” 

Taking the DM 5 that Richard slammed down onto the bar, Paul took some thought into his next words. “I could ask Schneider to cover for me tonight so we could continue this conversation. Not like anyone else is gonna show up. Maybe an alcoholic father who misses his ex wife, but that’s it.”

Richard nearly choked on his drink with laughter. “You’ve got a pretty good sense of humor for someone who looks the type to hate any kinds of jokes. You don’t have to do that. I’m only going to stay a few more minutes before I leave, I’m getting pretty tired. Had a long day of doing absolutely nothing, y’know?”

“Nah, I don’t know. I wish I could do absolutely nothing. But I insist! You look like you need the company.”

Before Richard could object, Paul already went over to bug Schneider about taking over for him.

“Hey Schneider, can I ask you something?” 

Schneider, who was cleaning the last of the glasses, turned around with a small smile. “I believe you’ve already asked me one, so yes you may ask me another.”

Paul rolled his eyes. “Listen, I need you to do me a big favour, I need you to take over for me for a bit.”

Schneider frowned and paused his cleaning. “Why? What for? Are you doing alright?”

Paul shook his head. “It’s not that, I just want to chat to that guy over there. He gestured over to where Richard was sitting. “I want to give ‘mystery man’ some company tonight.” Being careful not to catch his eye, Schneider peered over Paul’s shoulder curiously and saw Richard sipping on his drink.

Schneider couldn’t help but laugh. “Why do you want to associate with him anyway, Paulchen? He’s just another barfly. It’s not like he’ll remember you tomorrow.”

“Hey, he’s nice! And he remembered me from the last time he came, so hah!” Paul jeered. “He told me straightforward that he doesn’t have anyone, Schnei. I feel bad for him.”

“Whatever you say, Paulchen. I’ll take over for tonight so you can go talk to your prettyboy, but you’re gonna owe me for this. And don’t come crying to me once you find out he’s not interested in you!” 

“Thank you Schnei! I owe you big!” Paul beamed at the taller man, going back to talk to Richard. Schneider only rolled his eyes and muttered ‘you’re welcome, asshole,’ before going back to what he was doing.

Snatching some whiskey and a glass for himself, Paul made his way around the bar to sit on the creaky stool next to Richard. Pouring himself a drink, he spoke, “I convinced him to take over for a bit.”

“You honest to God didn’t have to, but I quite like that you went out of your way to do that. You’re a nice fella,” Richard offered a half smile, snatching the whiskey from Paul and pouring a small portion into his empty cup.

Taking a small sip of his drink, Paul grinned. “I try my best to be nice to everyone, even assholes. I think everyone has a little good in them, you know? People are mean ‘cause they probably went through some shit, and they take it out on others.”

“Mm, you really think so? I thought people just act the way they do because they feel like it. I never took that kind of shit into consideration.” Richard raised a brow, impressed at Paul’s thinking.

“Yeah, I do!”

Richard observed him for a moment over the rim of his glass and Paul somehow felt quite nervous. It felt as though the other man was seeing right through him. He felt rather… exposed.

“Make sure no one takes advantage of you though. I know of too many good people who have been taken advantage of by really shit people. I’ve seen people who are nice to others - only to gain material and financial goods. Once those people have gotten what they wanted and used you up, they toss you aside like some piece of garbage and you’re left feeling like shit after,” Richard said, taking another swig of his drink.

Paul laughed bitterly. “Oh trust me, I know all too well. Back in high school, I used to have “friends” who would be nice to me only if I did their homework for them. I wanted friends so badly that I would give in every time. Deep down, I knew that they were using me; though I never wanted to admit it or confront them about it. I was alone for the longest time and never had any actual friends. Until Oliver and Schneider came along, that is.”

“Wow, what dicks. I take it that Oliver and Schneider were in the same class as you?” inquired Richard.

“Yep! At first I thought they were a little weird.. I got suspicious of them first since they hung out with me during lunchtimes. I thought perhaps that they were going to use me like all the others did, but as time went on, I figured that they actually enjoyed talking to me and being around me in general.”

Paul paused to take a drink before continuing. “Oli loved to chat to me about space things, comics and other geeky stuff. Schnei was the really smart one - smarter than me, even! He always used to let Oliver and I borrow his notes if we were stuck on something during lessons.” Paul smiled fondly at the memory. “I think if it wasn’t for them, I would be stuck in a deep depression. Or worse yet, become bitter and hate everybody.”

“Hm. It seems like I completely misjudged you, Paul. It seems you’ve had plenty of shitty experiences,” Richard said, playing with his drink. “And here I thought that your friends just hated me,” he laughed.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me!” Paul exclaimed with an air of playfulness. “and no, of course they don’t. They are good men who are very kind and considerate. They just don’t know you well enough yet, though they might be grown men like you and I, they’re very shy. Just give it time. They’ll open up to you gradually, especially with me here.”

“I’ll take that into consideration,” said Richard, taking another small sip.

“Alright, since I’ve opened up to you, it’s only fair for you to do the same,” Paul said cheekily. “From the sounds of it, you’ve been through some rough patches too.”

“Ah shit you got me there. Alright, fine.” Richard chuckled. “My story isn’t so different from yours, I suppose. I was an outcast as well, I didn’t have any friends either. But that’s because I didn’t like to get close to anyone. I found it easier to be by myself, weirdly. Being around people was too tiresome for me. I don’t really need added stress to my life.”

“Wait, if you don’t like to hang around people, why are you hanging around me?” questioned Paul, confusion laced into his tone.

Richard cocked his head to the side. “I can’t really put my finger on it, but you seem rather special.”

“Oh..?” Paul couldn’t fight back the grin pulling on his lips. “Special, you say?”

“I say special, yep,” Richard downed the little remains of his drink. “And with that I bid you adieu. I’ve gotten tangled up in your web of conversation. How much for the whiskey?”

Paul shrugged. “On the house. I’ll pay for it.”

“You’re a saint, Paul. I suppose I’ll see you next time,” Richard said on his way to the door, waving the bartender goodbye before leaving.

_“Who are you, mysterious stranger?”_


	3. Du bist ein besonderer, also ruf mich an.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mysterious Richard wants to give Paul his number but is too anxious to do so, so he makes Oli give it to him instead.

**04/09/91 ; 22:32**

_“Y’know, Paulchen, I knew there was something special about you when you first started talking to me,” Richard said solemnly, rubbing Paul’s knuckles with his thumb._

_“Why would you think that, though? I’m just a guy who works at a bar trying to survive.”_

_He shrugs. “I suppose it may have been the way you first spoke to me; with genuine concern and niceness. I hadn’t gotten that from anyone for a long while - until you came along, that is.”_

_“I’ve told you before, Richie. I see potential and good in everyone. Even the sarcastic assholes like you,” Paul teased._

_“That’s just one of the many things I love about you.”_

“Hey, ding dong fuckhead, is anyone home up there?!” Schneider yelled, knocking harshly on the bar in an attempt to get Paul out of his daydreaming, which caused the smaller man to jump. 

“Christ, Schnei! You couldn’t have just tapped me on the shoulder or something?! You scared me half to death, you dick!” Paul smacked Schneider on his arm. 

“What the fuck are you even thinking about, anyway? Thinking about the future you’re gonna have with that guy you’re trying to befriend?” He teased, rubbing his arm at the spot Paul hit. “Jesus, you hit hard! Lots of pent up rage you got there, Paulchen.”

Face burning red with both fury and embarrassment, Paul put up his now balled fists and yelled, “I’m not, prick! Why do you automatically assume I’m thinking of Richard?” he whined.

“Maybe because of the way you’re looking at him whenever he walks in?” Oliver chimed in, adding his own take to the new conversation. “Perhaps the fact you’re always content to be the first one asking what he’d like to drink?”

“Can you both _please_ knock it off?” Paul begged, clasping his hands together and looking at the pair with puppy eyes.

“Nope. Admit that you like this Richard fella and we’ll leave you alone,” Schneider said bluntly, looking down at Paul.

Deciding whether or not he’ll admit, Paul caved in, for the sole purpose of Schneider and Oliver leaving him alone. “Okay, yeah, maybe I like him a little. But I really doubt he’ll return my feelings! It’s just a harmless crush. Not like I’m gonna confess any time soon. I’ve only known him for barely a week. Maybe it’ll go away, and we’ll be nothing more than friends.”

Exchanging shit-eating grins, Schneider and Oliver looked back to Paul. “So, you finally give in! Awesome! You owe me DM 20, Oliver,” Schneider cheered, holding out his hand to Oliver.

“Can’t it wait until after the shift?” Oliver groaned, “I wasn’t expecting to lose this bet!”

“Wait.. what the fuck were you guys betting on?” Paul asked, confusion overtaking his angry expression.

“We were betting on whether or not you’d tell us if you like that guy or not. I thought you wouldn’t, Schneider said you would.”

Paul pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut while trying to process the information he was just given. “You guys fuckin’ _suck._ Profiting off my being able to fall for someone easily.” 

Schneider rolled his eyes. “We love you too, pal. And Oli, you better pay up before the shift ends or I add on 2 Deutsche marks for every missing day. Now go on and take care of that guy in the booth.”

“Sheesh, yes sir,” Oliver mumbled before heading off to said booth.

Upon hearing an entrance, Paul smiled seeing who it was. “Hey, Richard!” he greeted joyfully, his previous awful mood being lifted greatly.

“Hey,” Richard returned the greeting, taking a seat in the stool in front of Paul and Schneider. He refrained from saying anything else, as Schneider intimidated him greatly. He didn’t _want_ to know what would happen if he said one wrong thing.

“What would you like to drink?” Paul kept his smile, unaware of his friend staring down the guy he likes with a death glare that screamed ‘hurt him, you’re gonna see hell.’

“Just another rum and coke for tonight. And a shot of whiskey.” 

Heading off to grab his drink, Richard desperately tried avoiding any sort of contact with Paul’s friend by keeping his head down and his eyes on the bar.

“So,” Schneider began, which caused Richard to shift his eyes up to face him. “Paul seems to have taken a liking to you.”

“Uh, y-yeah.”

“Y’know, I’m surprised he decided to talk to a drinker like _you_ ,” he continued in a soft, passive-aggressive tone. “I could care less about who Paul chooses to be friends with. But if you do so much as say just a small little something that upsets him, your ass is gonna be three ways from Sunday. Got that?”

Fighting back the urge to anxiously tap his fingers against the table, Richard replied, “Whatever you say, dude. I-I was never planning to hurt him anyway! He’s a good guy.”

Schneider nodded, backing up from Richard before Paul could notice something was up. “Okay, here you are! Sorry about the wait,” he set the shot glass and the other filled cup in front of Richard, who thanked him.

Now heading out of Paul’s line of sight, Schneider gave Richard the ‘I’m watching you,’ gesture before going off to tend to a different customer, who was thankfully closer to the entrance and farther from where Richard sat. 

“What was going on with you and Schnei? I saw him talking to you. He didn’t do anything to scare you, did he?” Paul questioned worriedly.

“Paul, the other night you said your buddies are shy. That was a fucking _lie._ This ‘Schnei’ guy is scary. And I’m usually never scared of anyone,” he downed his shot.

A frown found its way onto Paul’s face. “Ah, shit, I’m sorry. He can get a bit overprotective at times. You know, with all the stuff that happened in highschool and all. I’ll make sure he doesn’t talk to you like that again. Sorry, again - he’s never normally like that!”

“Nah, don’t apologize. It’s fine. I can get why he’s protective, but Jesus Christ. Dude looks like he could break a brick in half,” Richard took a drink. “...that was supposed to sound like a compliment. I apologize. Please don’t tell him I said that.”

Paul laughed at the ‘compliment.’ “Don’t worry, I won’t. He’s just like this because most of the people that come here are drunken assholes who come here to drink away their divorces, pain, feelings… shit like that. We all cop verbal abuse from time to time, but I always seem to cop the most of it and Chris can sense it. That’s why we just mostly keep to ourselves and never speak or look at anyone twice. To put it bluntly: We’re very heavily guarded - mentally, I mean. So please don’t take his harshness seriously.” Paul patted him hesitantly on the shoulder. To his surprise, Richard gave him a small smile.

Richard waved his hand airily. “Nah it’s fine, I totally get it. When you work in a cheap, run down place like this, It’s certain that you’ll get a clusterfuck of the wrong sort of crowd. Like moths to the flame so to speak. Don’t worry though, I’m not an asshole like the other regulars you get. I’m pretty chill.” He winked and took another sip of his drink. 

“I can sense your bullshit from a mile away. But, as of our current conversations I think you’ve earned the privilege to say you’ve been ‘chill,’” Paul played.

“Wow! I’ve earned permission to call myself chill! Oh, thank you Paul! I owe you my life and soul!” Richard exclaimed dramatically, hand gestures, a bizarre facial expression, everything you’d need to call him a drama queen.

“Alright, tone it down a notch,” Paul giggled. “You’re just proving my point, Richard.”

“My deepest and most sincere apologies, sir. It won’t happen again,” he kept playing along, taking another longer drink. “Could you get me another shot?”

“What’s the magic word?”

“Fuck off and get me another shot, _please_?”

“Good job!” Paul cheered lightly, taking the whiskey from behind him and popping it open, pouring Richard another shot.

“Gee, thanks!” Richard downed it upon first contact with it. “I’d ask for another, but then it’d be a whole thing, and I don’t wanna have to beg you to drive me home.”

“Ah, it’s fine..” Paul lingered on the last words. “Hey, I’ll be right back. There’s a pair that don’t have drinks in hand. Give me a few,” he headed off to the pair’s booth.

Tapping both fingers on the bar, Richard looked around for another worker, spotting a blond, nearly bald, lanky one. “Hey, excuse me? Are you friends with Paul?”

The worker nodded and strode over. “Yes to both of your questions. And you’re his mystery man, I presume?”

“Yeah. Could you do me a _huge_ favor? I-I’ll even tip you for it.” Richard didn’t mean to let his stutter slip, but unfortunately he couldn’t magically make it go away.

“Sure, hit me,” the worker said, raising a brow in interest at what his favor was.

Richard pulled out a note, along with DM 5, handing it to the worker. “I need you to give that note to Paul for me. See, I’d do it myself, but..” he trailed off once he saw Paul nearing himself and the worker. “Just give it to him, please. The DM 5 is all yours.” he whispered quickly.

“Oli? Why’re you talking to Richard?” Paul asked, confused, but still kept a smile on his face.

“Ah, he uh,” Oliver looked to Richard, who mouthed ‘shot,’ “He wanted another shot! Yeah, that’s it. A shot. I will be right back!” He ran off to a farther side, pretending to look for the whiskey.

Paul had noticed him stuffing a small paper and a Deutsche mark in his pocket, but didn’t question it. “I thought you weren’t having any other shots tonight.”

“Ah, see, I just wanted to have one for the road, you know? Three times the charm!” Richard said, clearly nervous. Paul didn’t want to push any questions onto him, so he let the subject matter go.

“I.. I believe it’s third times the charm, Richard,” Paul laughed. “But I understand, I guess. I’ve never really taken any more than a single shot before hitting the road if I wanted to drink.”

“Okay, sir, here’s your shot!” Oliver boasted, nearly breaking the glass with the sudden force he inflicted upon it. “Uh, sorry. Some of that spilled.”

Look at what you’ve done, Oliver. Look down at your work and weep.

Richard downed it so fast he nearly choked on it. “Welp, I gotta go! I’ll see you soon, Paul!” he waved and rushed to the door, slamming it on his way out. Paul watched as his now distinct figure hurried to start his car.

“..why was he in such a rush? What were you both talking about? I know that it doesn’t take over 15 seconds to ask for a shot,” Paul looked Oliver in the eye, desperately wanting to know what they were conversing about. 

Oliver tried his best to think of a way to explain. He himself didn’t even get to see what Richard was going to give Paul. “Um, he asked if I was friends with you so I said yeah and then he told me to give you something and gave me a 5 as a bribe. I was gonna say I would but then you started walking up so he just rushed it and it was weird. But, here’s what he wanted to give you. Dunno what it is,” Oliver pulled out a slightly crumpled paper from his back pocket, handing it to Paul.

While Paul knew that Richard was going to give him something, as he had overheard their conversation and wanted to make it seem as though he didn’t, he was genuinely surprised at what was written in it.

“Okay, I got the rest of those drunk fucks out so we can clean up and close,” Schneider began taking the apron around his waist off. “What’s going on? Why does Paul look like he’s seen a ghost?”

“What’s the note say, Paulchen?” Oliver began bouncing with anticipation. 

In almost illegible handwriting read, ‘ _Du bist ein ziemlich Cooler Typ. Ich würde dich gerne mehr kennenlernen, also Ruf einfach an, Wann immer._ ’ Followed by a phone number. Paul grinned widely at the note and kept a white knuckle grip on it.

“It’s nothing you should be concerned about,” Paul bit his lip to hide his wide smile.


	4. Der liebeskranke Narr und der ahnungslose Idiot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul and Richard go on their first date, only Richard is as oblivious as ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there everyone we're back with another chapter. This actually turned out longer than expected but we're happy with it!

**08/09/91 ; 17:12**

Paul stared at the note that had both Richard’s message and number on it, hardly believing his eyes. He hadn’t expected to score his number so quickly, but yet he couldn’t bring himself to call the man even though his left hand was inches away from the phone. He shouldn’t be this anxious, especially since he’s admitted to enjoying Paul’s company. He cursed himself for his lack of confidence.

 **“** Paul? You ok? You’re zoning out here man,” said Oliver. “Look, just call your pretty boy! It’s not that hard. He gave you his number, didn’t he?”

Paul sighed wearily. “I know, but I’m just really anxious. What do I even say to him if I do call him? What if I sound like a complete dumbass?”

“You won’t. Just invite him out somewhere like lunch or something,” Oliver shrugged. “He seems like a nice guy, even though he’s a bit strange, but he seems to have taken a shine to you.”

“That does seem like a good idea…” Paul said hesitantly. “What if it’s not good enough?”

“Look Paulchen,” groaned Oliver slightly exasperatedly, “enough with the ‘what if’s!’ Ask that man out right now or I'll ask him out for you. You’re lucky Schneider isn’t overhearing this because he’d say the same thing, except a million times worse.”

Paul narrowed his eyes. “Don’t you dare. I am perfectly capable of doing this myself. I’ll do it right now!” He reached for the phone with a shaky hand and dialed Richard’s number, and with each ring came more anxiety. There was a moment of silence after the rings. Paul thought of hanging up until he heard a voice on the other line.

“...Hello? Who’s this?”

Paul cleared his throat. “Uh, Richard? Hi, it’s Paul. How are you?”

“Oh, hey Paul. I didn’t expect you to actually ring me. What’s up?

Paul let out an amused huff. “You give me your number, but you didn’t think I’d call you? Are you sure you know how these kinds of things work, or are you just toying with me?”

Richard let out a short laugh. “Shut up, you know what I meant. Now, I’ll ask again. What’s up?”

”Oh, yeah! I was going to ask you whether or not you wanted to have some lunch with me today since the weather’s nice right now?” asked Paul. “O-only if you want to, that is!”

Richard was silent for a moment, making Paul more anxious than he already was, until he got an answer. “Yeah that sounds good, actually. I could go for a bite. Where do you wanna go?”

“Well I know a pretty good place not too far from the bar that isn’t too expensive. But I’m open to other suggestions if you have any!”

“Sure. I don’t really care where we go, so let’s do your place. I’ll be at the bar in like, 15 or 20 minutes if that’s cool?”

“Okay! I’ll see you soon, then!” Paul hung up and put a hand on his chest to feel his now rapid heartbreak. “S-See, I did it, Oli!”

”Hey, I’m proud of you! You didn’t even need Schneider’s peer pressure this time!” Oliver gave him a rough pat on the back.

”Did he finally call that drunkie?” Schneider questioned, both amused yet disappointed in Paul for choosing someone like him. 

“He’s not a drunkie, dick!” Paul shouted. “And, uh, yeah. I called him.”

“It’s nice to see you did that, but did you not take into mind the fact you still have work to do, Paulchen?” 

Paul’s face went blank. “I- uh, fuck. No.” and almost immediately he began begging. “Could you guys please take over for me, just for tonight? I promise I’ll do whatever you guys want!”

“On Schnei’s behalf and my own, we will think about it. Go ahead and enjoy your date! You haven’t had a nice night out in a while, so I implore you to go on.” Oliver spoke up before Schneider could. “Your date’s here, now get the fuck out before we change our minds!”

“Thanks a bunch, Oli! I owe you one!” Paul took his apron off in a rush and ran to the door, slowing once Richard’s car was fully in sight. 

He couldn’t help but snicker once Richard jumped at the sound of his window being tapped on, and shouted a ‘fuck!’’, which was followed by him unlocking the car’s doors so Paul could take a seat.

“You scared the fucking shit out of me, Paul! Almost had a damn heart attack!” he yelled, slightly calming down at Paul’s laughter. “But besides that, is it okay for me to be picking you up while you’re still on the job?”

While Paul buckled, he responded, “Yep! Oli told me he and Schnei would take over for me in turn of a favor, so we’ll be fine. Unless like, they have an urgent emergency, which is _very_ unlikely.”

“Ah, alright then! You lead the way, cap’n. I have no idea where the fuck we’re going,” Richard began backing out of the lot, looking behind him and putting a hand on Paul’s seat.

“Okay, um, take a left there,” Paul pointed to where they’d pull out. “Then go straight from there and take the second right you see.”

“Shit, slow down! I’m dumb, you gotta keep it at a good pace for a dumb fuck like me.”

“Maybe keep your eyes on the road instead of focusing on conversation, Kruspe. That’s all I’ll say,” Paul pulled his seat slightly back to get comfortable. The seats were a bit rough granted the car isn’t well taken care of, but he wasn’t about to start complaining about it.

Richard repressed the urge to roll his eyes at that. “And all I’ll say is that I am not a safe driver. But we wouldn’t want your pretty little face getting messed up because of me, so I _guess_ I’ll try to be safe. Do I take the right here?”

Paul failed as he fought back the feel to blush at his vague compliment. “Yeah. Drive straight, take the first left you see, straight again, and I’ll tell you when to stop.”

“Will do, chief,” Richard said, taking on the wheel with one hand to tap his fingers on the storage box that only barely separated himself from Paul. “So, how’s your day been going so far?”

“Ah, it’s been going okay. Very boring, but I’m sure this lunch will make something of today! I’ve been needing something to make this week fun, I suppose.”

“Hey, at least you have your work buddies to have some kind of entertainment. I just have the friendly neighborhood kitties and the dickheads that yell at me for coming home at 3 in the morning. Yelling at me for listening and singing along to my music and saying, ‘you know, people work this late!’ and I just fuckin’ say ‘I know, don’t you feel sorry for them?’” 

Paul wasn’t sure how to respond to this new information, so decided to focus on the positive outlook. “Well, now you have me, too! Everyone needs someone.”

“Never expected my someone to be a bartender at the bar I get fucked up at,” Richard laughed. “But you know, the world just throws the most unexpected shit at you. Not that I don’t like you. Just surprised the only friend I’m gonna have is the same guy that gives me alcohol.”

“Maybe someday I could introduce you to my friends and then you won’t be so lonely. I think Oli’s already taken a liking to you,” Paul snrked at the remembrance of him and Richard’s strange exchange. “Schneider, though, I’m not so sure yet. He takes a while to warm up to people. The only reason he became friends with me so fast is because Oli dragged him over to sit with me since he felt bad that I was alone. Ah, sorry, I’m ranting at this point..”

“No, no. It’s okay. I’ve always been more of a listener, anyways. I’m glad I made a good impression on Oli even though our first interaction was actually _awful_.” Richard shuddered.

“I think it was funny. It was how so all over the place it was that made me laugh. Oh - there’s the place!” Paul pointed to a small restaurant with a decent amount of cars in it’s parking lot, and Richard began pulling up.

“Looks like a nice place.” said Richard, getting out and slamming his door shut, while Paul followed suit. “For an affordable restaurant I mean. I thought it might look a lot more… basic?”

Paul raised his eyebrows in amusement. “You expected me to take you to a shabby, run down shack with shitty food and no aesthetic whatsoever? You wound me, Richard.”

“Quite the opposite actually. You seemed like the type of guy to splurge, so I thought you might take me somewhere huge and fancy,” Richard said with a grin. “Honestly, I’m glad you didn’t, though. I don’t do well in fancy places and all that shit. Mostly because people stare at me a lot; in either disgust or judgement.”

“Well, if my job wages allowed it, I'd totally splurge!” laughed Paul. “But unfortunately, I cannot as they just barely cover my bills and food. And as for those people, if I were you, I’d tell them to go fuck themselves. People take one look at another person who looks different and automatically label that person. I hate it. Those people that judge you are missing out on getting to know one of the coolest, most handsome dudes I know.”

Richard was looking at him with an expression that was a mixture of gratitude and tenderness. Paul seemed to notice this and immediately stopped talking.

“Oh sorry, I went overboard didn’t I? That sort of shit just really pisses me off.”

“No no, It’s fine. It’s just that no one has spoken about me positively before,” said Richard quietly. “Your words threw me off a bit, that’s all.”

“Well more people should compliment you. It’s what you deserve,” Paul stated simply. “Now before we go inside i need you to come over here.’

“Why?”

“Just do it! You’ll thank me in the end!”

Richard made his way over to Paul and stood in front of him, watching Paul fumble with one of the hair-ties that was around his wrist.

“Turn around please.”

Richard, knowing what he was planning to do, obeyed. He felt Paul gently but firmly grab his hair and tie it, only barely tightening it so the tie wouldn't loosen. 

“Is that okay?” Paul asked softly, hands barely grazing Richard’s hair. “I could tighten it more if you’d like.”

“Uh, that’s good. Thank you,” Richard said, turning back around to face Paul, who was red faced. “Are you okay? Your face is red.”

Raising a hand to touch his burning face, Paul dug into the skin of his cheek. “Haha, yep! I’m fine! Don’t worry about me, let’s just go in now.” he offered a faux smile, silently cursing himself for blushing.

“Alright, then. I’m fuckin’ starving over here,” whined Richard.

“Oh, yes. Of course,” Paul said as they both made their way to the entrance. “After you,” he said as he held the door open for the other man.

“Such a gentleman,” smiled Richard, raising a brow. He pat Paul gently on the back, causing Paul’s face to burn a brighter red. “C’mon, I see a good table near the window over there,” Richard pointed out, dragging Paul along by the wrist and sitting him down, along with himself.

“Is there anything on here that catches your eye?” asked Paul, not looking up from his menu to avoid any more embarrassment from his seemingly never-ending blush.

Richard scratched his chin thoughtfully, quickly tapping on the menu with his other hand. “Hmm, not really. I think I might just go ahead and order that hamburger with some fries.”

“I think I might get the same, I’m not feeling too adventurous today. I just wanna eat as soon as possible. I didn’t have time to eat breakfast,” Paul set his menu down.

“Really? How come?”

“Work,” Paul stated simply. “I like to get there early in hopes I can get some kind of raise. No such luck yet,” he sighed, clearly disappointed in himself. “Maybe it’s my work performance? I mean, I will admit I’ve been slacking a bit lately, but nonetheless I’ve still been showing up as early as I can.”

“I know how you feel,” Richard leaned back, splaying his hands against the table. “Can’t stress to you enough how many times I’ve woken up early and busted _ass_ trying to get a raise. Every single fucking job I’ve had it’s all the same shit. Wake up at ass o’clock in the morning, skip on breakfast, offer to take night shifts, and still no raise. But regardless of my own experience, I think you do pretty good at your job.”

Paul smiled at his sympathy, trying to think of what his next words will be, until realizing that their waitress had arrived. 

“How can I help you boys today?” she asked, taking the menus from the table. 

“I’ll have a hamburger with water,” Paul looked up at her, watching her write down the order. It was hard to see her eyes, as her bangs were covering them. He wondered if she could even see through her own hair.

“Yeah, and I’ll have a hamburger with a coke. And a side of those cheese fries.” Richard crossed his arms on the table, almost putting his head down in his arms before realizing this is not the place or the time to act like a child.

The waitress nodded, sliding the small book with their orders into her apron’s pocket. “Alright, your food will be done shortly!” she offered a kind smile before heading off to the kitchen to give off the order.

Richard waited until she was out of sight to say, “fucking _water?_ With a burger? Really, Paul? I expected more from you. I am ashamed.”

“Well get used to it, ‘cause there’s an 8 in 10 chance I’m gonna order water,” Paul responded with a shrug.

“What are the other two chances, then?”

“Soft drinks or alcohol, but only on special occasions. Which almost never happen anymore. But as for the soft drink, I order if I’m feeling up to it. And today is not that day. I am fine with my iced water, Richard.”

“Okay, damn!” he put his hands up in defense, fighting his urge to smile and laughter back. “I was just wondering, geez!” he snickered, biting his lip to prevent any more laughs from coming through. 

“Alright, here are your drinks,” the waitress returned with said drinks, putting each one down, both followed by straws. “Your food should be done in a few.”

“Okay, thank you!” Paul offered a smile.

“No problem!” the waitress smiled back, walking off once again.

“..So uh, Paul.” Richard’s face was scrunched up, clearly trying not to lose his mind.

“Hm? What is it?” 

“You.. you still happy with your iced water?” he couldn’t help but let out a snicker.

Extremely confused, Paul looked down at his drink. It was missing its ice. “Oh, very funny, Richard.”

Finally at his breaking point, Richard started cackling as if missing ice was the funniest thing in the world. “Y-You seem genuinely upset! Do you w-want your ice that bad?” he wiped a lone tear streaming down his cheek, trying to calm himself down.

“No. I do not. Water’s water, ice or no,” he took a sip of it. Still cold.

To that, Richard only shook his head with a still wide, shit-eating grin, now opening his own straw for his drink and taking a huge sip of it. 

“..is there something on my face?” he suddenly asked, still calming down from his sudden outbreak.

Paul’s eyes widened as he realized he was staring. “Oh, um, sorry!” he apologized quickly, tearing his eyes away from Richard’s own. “Just..” he quickly looked back up. “Yeah, nevermind. Sorry.”

“Can’t resist how hot I am?” he wiggled his eyebrows, chewing on his straw with a smirk. “You did say you think I’m attractive earlier, after all.”

“You _suck_!” Paul groaned, covering his face. “I was just dozing off, you asshole!”

“Didn’t deny it. You think I’m cute!” he teased, which only caused Paul to further sink into his seat. 

“I literally denied it! I said I was dozing off! Christ!” his words were slightly muffled through his hands. 

With an eye roll, Richard shook his head. “Whatever, Paulie. Say what you want to.”

“Urgh, you’re the most frustrating man I’ve ever met!” groaned Paul. “You’re lucky I enjoy your company.”

“You _enjoy_ me do you, hmm?” Richard said with a tone that was bordering on flirtation.

“W-well I...look, I’m not going to elaborate further.” said Paul who then took a sip of his water. “Oh look here comes our food!” he added as he saw the waitress arrive back with their meals. The two men offered their thanks as she set them down and left. Paul then promptly took one huge bite of his burger while simultaneously trying to cool down his now burning mouth with his water as he chewed. 

Richard stared in amazement. “Jesus, Paul. No waiting till it’s cooled even a little bit?” he said, taking a few of the fries.

“Nope. I haven’t eaten anything and I’m starving.” said Paul with another mouthful of food. 

“Fair enough.” laughed Richard, taking a bite of his own burger. “I’m surprised you could fit all that in your mouth at once.”

“You’d be surprised at how much I can fit in there,” mumbled Paul. “Also, you have some hair poking out.” He slightly lifted his hand as though he was going to fix it, but Richard had it handled well. 

“It’s alright, I got it,” Richard said, letting his hair down and then gathering all his hair and tying it back in a small, yet neat, ponytail.

“Y’know, your hair is really beautiful. You should style it sometime,” Paul suggested through a full mouth.

“You think so?” asked Richard. “Well I _have_ been thinking of putting it into dreadlocks.”

 **  
**Paul nearly choked on his food. “Dreadlocks? Really?” he couldn’t even begin to comprehend the kind of emotions that single sentence sent through him. All he knew is they were all negative.

“I dunno. They look cool. Why, is something wrong with that?” Richard half smiled at Paul’s horrified expression.

“Well, uh,” he took a few of the fries and bit into them. “I don’t think they’d suit you. Your hair is really nice, it’d be a shame if you did that to it. Obviously I’m not going to stop you, it’s _your_ hair, but I just don’t think it would work.”

“Alright then Paulie, what do you think would work best?” Richard huffed good-naturedly, folding his arms in front of his chest. “Since you’re the fashionista here.”

“I was thinking maybe you could dye your hair and you could have blond roots,” he suggested.. “It would give you a bit more of a grungy look; it would suit you very well.”

“Okay then! I’ll keep that in mind,” Richard grinned. “Who knows, I might actually go ahead and do it.”

“Hm, good. Because those dreads would not suit your beautiful face,” Paul said, stuffing a whole handful of fries and the last bit of his burger in his mouth. “Well, I’m stuffed. How ‘bout you?” he asked in a desperate turn to change the subject.

“I’m almost full myself,” Richard said, pointing at his mostly empty plate, save for a few leftover fries. “You know… this is the first time I’ve ever actually been out to eat actual food at a restaurant. In a long while, I mean.”

“What?! Are you serious?” exclaimed Paul, slamming his hands down on the table. “What food have you been eating before I met you?”  
  
“Delivery pizza and Pasta. Or whatever was at the gas station,” admitted Richard, who had to hold back a laugh at Paul’s horrified expression. “What? It’s not _that_ bad. I just never had time or the money to eat at restaurants.”

Paul shook his head in disbelief. “You should have told me this sooner! I would have taken you somewhere even nicer!”

Richard laughed warmly, his smile reaching his eyes. “Relax Paul, this place is good enough by my standards. I really am grateful for you taking me here.” he fixed Paul with a lovely smile enough to make him freeze in place. 

“You’re welcome.” said Paul, giving him a small, shy smile, that quickly faded after taking a look out of the window they sat by. “Jesus Christ, we’ve been here for a while. The sun’s beginning to set. How long has it been?”

“I dunno. Maybe an hour or so?” said Richard, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Wanna head back? It’ll get even colder outside if we stay here any longer.”

“Good idea, but I’m driving,” said Paul cheekily.

“Mm,” Richard crumpled up the napkin and tossed it to the side. “I don’t think so. I might know you, but I don’t know you well enough to trust that you will take good care of my dogshit, precious car.”

Paul rolled his eyes, stacking up the empty, dirtied plates on top of each other, topping them off with Richard’s now ruined napkin. “Jeez, alright. Thought after this one whole hour together we would be best friends for life, but I guess not,” he played.

“You do know I like you, Paul, and I say we’re good friends. But not good enough. Sorry, the car's mine to drive tonight. Maybe if you prove yourself you can drive it,” Richard cocked his head to the side, popping his fingers on both hands with his thumbs.

“Okay, whatever. Let’s go pay and leave. Maybe if I annoy you enough you’ll let me drive,” Paul stated simply, pushing himself up from the table and taking a moment to stretch, then leaving a DM 3 tip for the waitress on the table.

Richard popped his neck and stood up. “That’ll just make me want to kick you out. And I mean, the bar isn’t too far from here, so you’d be able to walk!” he exclaimed happily, now walking alongside Paul to the counter.

“I was actually hoping we could drive around a bit longer. I’m not necessarily feeling up to going back to work so soon. I know that Oli and Schnei are probably gonna be annoyed, but hey, I’ve already been out this long. Another hour of me missing won’t kill them.”

“Sure, you should’ve said so sooner. So you just wanna drive around town or something?”

“Yeah, whatever works for you,” Paul grabbed his wallet. “Give me a second, you can go ahead and wait outside if you’d like.”

“Okay!” Richard began making his way toward the door, feeling Paul’s eyes on him until he was outside.

Paul tore his eyes away once he had heard the cashier speak up. “Will you be paying with cash or card tonight?” 

“Cash. How much will it be?”

The cashier took a moment to look over their order, doing the math in his head. “DM 12.”

With that, Paul pulled out DM 10 and an extra DM 5. “Could I get DM 3 back?”

Nodding, the cashier took the money from Paul and opened up the cash register, grabbing another DM 3 in singles for his change and handing that back to Paul. “Here you are. Have a nice night!”

Paul put the change in his wallet, and his wallet back in his pocket. “Thank you, you too!” he spared a smile, walking out the door only to have smoke blown in his face. “I’m gone for not even 5 minutes and you feel the need to smoke a cigarette?” he coughed, pulling up his shirt over his nose to block out the smoke.

Richard shrugged, puffing out one more huff of smoke before flicking it to the ground and stamping it out with the heel of his shoe. “It’s not that big a deal. Let’s get goin’ now, then. I haven’t been on a nice sunset ride in a while,” he jangled his keys as he started walking to his car, Paul following closely behind. 

Paul grinned in thanks once Richard had opened the passenger’s door for him. “ _Such_ a gentleman,” he laughed, hopping in and buckling up. 

“Anything for m’man,” he closed the door and walked over to the driver’s side, getting in and not bothering to buckle up before he started the car up. “Anywhere specific you wanna go?” Richard looked over to Paul as he buckled up.

“Like I said before, Richard, I don’t care. Just drive wherever the hell you want. Take me to the fuckin’ grocery store for all I care, just _drive._ Anywhere that isn’t my Goddamn work,” Paul groaned, annoyed that he wanted to know where to go. It wasn’t so much a request as it was more so of a demand.

Richard widened his eyes at Paul suddenly yelling at him. He wasn’t upset. just surprised. “Didn’t know you had that in you. But whatever you say, cap’n!” he pulled out of the restaurant’s lot, now going back on the main road. “Hey, there’s a park around here. We could go there and hang out a while if you’d like to.”

“ _Again,_ Richard. I don’t care where we go. The park sounds nice, though.. yeah, let’s do that,” Paul’s grumpy mood was quick to change back into his usual, happy mood. “I may know which one you’re talking about. I’ll keep a lookout for it. Isn’t it down where you’re driving now?”

Richard nodded. “Yeah, just a few minutes away from here,” he focused more on his driving, looking straight ahead and often darting his eyes to see if he could spot the park. “Wait - no, not yet,” he shook his head.

“What is it?” 

“I thought I saw it, but nevermind. Maybe a few more minutes - nevermind, it’s right down there,” Richard sped up a bit, being cautious as to not attract the attention of anyone else; or to wind up with a ticket like he does on _special_ nights.

“Oh, yay!” Paul cheered, eagerly awaiting to get out and enjoy himself out there. Sometimes car rides weren’t enough.

Slightly increasing the speed again, Richard pulled up to one of the parking spots closest to the completely empty park. “Here we are,” he unbuckled and got out, taking in a cool breeze. 

“Man, it’s been a while!” Paul got out in a rush, being careful not to slam the already damaged car door. “I used to come here a lot when I was a teenager. It was my own little world when I was here,” he began walking toward the swings.

Richard jogged over to walk next to him. “Yeah, it’s a nice place..” he trailed on his words, keeping to himself. 

Paul grew concerned at the sudden difference in his mood, but could tell that he didn’t want to talk about it. He sat down on a swing, patting the one next to him. “Sit.”

“Eh, what the hell.” Richard strode over to the swingset, sitting down on the one Paul had told him to sit on. He held onto the chains, gently swinging himself. 

“I remember that every day after school on Fridays, Oli, Schnei, and I would walk over here and spend long whiles just talking and hanging out. It was really nice.. it’s the little moments like that I miss, you know?” Paul looked over to Richard. 

**“** I guess so,” he didn’t bother to look back up, only staring at his kicking legs. 

_Now_ Paul was growing more concerned with his behavior. “You do know you can tell me if something’s wrong, right?”

Richard lifted his head up, only so much so that Paul could take a look at his eyes. “I’m okay. Just being here makes me upset. I can’t really say why.”

“But you _can_ , Richard. I know that you know what’s wrong, and I’m not gonna leave you be until you tell me what’s bugging you. The sooner you do it, the more time we have for a pleasant conversation rather than a sad one.”

“I don’t want you to worry, Paul. I am okay. Let it go.”

“No!” he shouted, startling Richard to the point where he almost fell back. “You’re clearly not! I’m not stupid, so just tell me what’s the matter!” 

“This place just has shitty fucking memories attached, okay?” Richard yelled back, quickly resorting back to his sadder state. “I fuckin’ came here to get away from my piece of shit parents for years up until I could move out. That’s all you need to know.”

Paul shut his mouth, looking down at the woodchips. “Oh. Fuck. S-Sorry, I shouldn’t have pushed you.” 

He sighed. “It’s fine. I like this place and all, but I don’t like the reason I had to come. At one point, I got sick of it. Didn’t have anywhere else to go, though. I should be the one that’s sorry, I’m the one who got sad over a dumb reason.”

“It’s not dumb, though,” Paul perked his head up. “It’s a perfectly valid reason to get upset. Everyone has shitty memories attached to _something_. Don’t apologize for something you can’t help.”

A moment of silence passed before Richard started to laugh, now confusing Paul more than it was concerning him. “What’s so funny? Why’re you laughing?”

“I just think it’s funny that you actually _listen_ to me. Nobody fuckin’ does that with an ass like me. Except you, apparently. God knows why, but I’m not complaining. You’re a good man, Paul.”

Paul paused for a moment to take a real good look at him. “Huh. But I told you before, I think everyone’s good. Even the asses like you.”

“Yeah, you can look me in the eyes when you say that after you get to know me better,” Richard scoffed. “Sorry, sorry. Didn’t mean to turn this into a pity fest. Let’s just enjoy this until some cop yells at us to fuck off ‘cause it’s too dark.”

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it,” Paul said, looking up. “The stars are pretty tonight.”

“Huh?” Richard asked before he looked up. “Oh. Yeah, they’re nice.”

“Could we stargaze? Properly, I mean. It’s okay if you don’t want to,” Paul looked back to Richard, who was still looking up. 

He took another moment before responding. “Sure. We could go on my car’s hood or something,” he got up from the swing he sat on, offering a hand to help Paul up. 

Paul didn’t hesitate taking his hand, slightly blushing at the contact. He pulled himself up, yet found himself not wanting to let go. But to his dismay, Richard pulled away first. 

Both walked back to the car, Paul being the first to hop up and adjust on the hood. “I feel like the grass would be a bit more comfortable.”

“Well we’re like, closer to the stars or whatever,” Richard said, getting on up from the side of the hood and lying down. “A little cramped here, but we’ll manage, I think.”

Internally, Paul was losing his mind that he was _this_ close to the guy he liked. Externally he was just blushing and trying not to lean up against him. “Very cheesy, Richard.”

“Thanks, I specialize in that. Now enjoy the view and don’t complain or I will drive you back to work,” Richard joked, propping one leg up with his hands on his stomach. 

It was silent for a good couple of minutes. Just the two of them looking up at the stars with only the sound of the wind, cicadas and crickets to accompany them. 

“I’m gonna go use that bathroom,” Richard had suddenly spoken up, sliding off the hood. “I’m not feeling well.”


	5. 5: Eine unerwartete Situation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A continuation of the previous chapter. Paul helps Richard with his food poisoning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey amanda here! i'd like to apologize to u all for the wait! we've both had God awful writer's block this month, and we decided the other day to get up off our asses and finally continue this chapter. thank u all for ur patience!<3

**08/09/91 ; 19:32**

A concerned look immediately formed on Paul’s face at the broken silence. He placed his palm across Richard’s forehead; he was ice cold. Before he could say anything else, Richard dashed to the bathroom as fast as he could run, Paul could faintly hear a door being slammed open followed by a sickening splatter. He ran over upon hearing it, turning on the bathroom’s flickering light as he ran in and saw Richard leaning over the toilet rim, shivering and sweating and bracing himself for any more vomit.

“Shit man, are you alright?!” Paul exclaimed, kneeling next to him. 

Richard turned around and smiled weakly. “I am now. I think it was something at that place we ate at.” without warning, he then turned back to the toilet sharply and threw up once more.

“Yeah I figured it could’ve been that.” replied Paul, nose wrinkling slightly at the sight. “I’m so sorry, this is all my fault,” He sighed while rubbing circles on Richard’s back with one hand, the other holding his hair back. “If I had chosen more carefully on where we ate, you wouldn’t have gotten sick.”

“Paulie, Please be quiet,” Richard whispered with a wavering voice, now flushing the toilet and going off to the sink. “It doesn’t matter where we went, I could have gotten food poisoning anywhere, I’ve had this happen plenty of times. This isn’t new to me,” He paused for a moment to thoroughly wash his hands. After that, he gargled some water and spat it out. “So stop worrying your pretty little head off. I’ll be fine in a few days, tops.”

“Maybe so, but you’re still pale as a fucking ghost!” fretted Paul. “At least let me drive you back home!”

“No!” blurted out Richard loudly. Paul looked mildly taken aback. “No,” said Richard more quietly this time. “I..I don’t want to go home just yet.”

“Fine, then would you like to go back to the pub then?” asked Paul, offering a sympathetic smile. “Let me take care of you there if not at your place.”

“You’ve really got a way of persuading people. Okay, then. Let’s get going,” Richard sighed, yet kept an amused look. “Here’s the keys. I trust that you won’t fuck anything up?” he got them out from his pocket, placing them in Paul’s hand.

With that, Paul fiddled with the keys on their way to the car. “So, in a dire situation _now_ you trust me with your car?” he jeered.

Richard rolled his eyes. “Do I honestly look like I’m in the right state to be driving right now? Please, do tell.”

“I just figured someone like you would insist on driving. Hell, insist on going home. It’s beyond me why you don’t want to. Do you live under a bridge or something?” He opened the passenger’s door for Richard, putting a hand on his back as he got in.

“No. Sometimes it feels like I do, ‘cause the place I live at is fucking garbage, but at least I got somewhere to stay, right?”

“That doesn’t really answer why you don’t want to go back. Wouldn’t you rather be in the comfort of your bed instead of a bar?” Paul got on the side opposite, buckling up then starting the car.

“Well my place is really fucking messy, for starters. I don’t wanna walk in and have you taking care of the mess I made instead of me.” Richard adjusted his seat back for his legs.

Paul couldn’t help but laugh at that. “You honestly think I would care if your place was messy or not? I live with 2 other people. Messes are the _least_ of my worries in this case.”

“I dunno. You just come off as the type of person who would clean the place head to toe,” he mumbled, pressing a hand on his forehead. 

“No. I used to care about shit like that, but after living with 2 big guys for 4 years, I decided to stop caring. Getting money so we can have food and a place to live is more important in this situation,” Paul said, glancing over at Richard. “Bar’s right up ahead. You gonna be okay?”

“Of course I am. I quite literally vomited my organs out. I think I’ll be fine,” Richard said nonchalantly. “I just feel shaky and a little cold, is all. I’ll just lie down in one of those booths until I can drive myself back.”

Paul only hummed in response, pulling up to the bar’s lot. “You know, it’s not too late for me to drive you home. Are you positive that you’d rather be here?”

“Yes, Paul,” Richard groaned in annoyance. “I’d probably just get more sick at home, if anything. I don’t even have fucking water, unless you can count tap. At least here I’d get some, and I wouldn’t even have to pay.. right?”

“No. It’s _water_ , Richard. You wouldn’t have to pay regardless of if you were sick or not,” Paul stopped the car, turning off the ignition and putting the keys in his pocket. “You can get these back when I think it’s safe for you to drive.”

“Hey, they’re my keys! You don’t get to police that shit!” Richard yelled, opening the car door. “I’m the one that pays for the car, not you!”

“You could get hurt, dumbass!” Paul retaliated, slamming the door on his way out. “You’d probably pass the fuck out on the way! I don’t even know how far you live but I sure as shit know you’d do something stupid if I just let you go!”

“Can you both shut the fuck up? You’re acting like you’re married.”

Both boys were startled at the sudden addition to their argument, looking over to see Schneider. 

“Chris! Did I miss anything?” it was as though Paul had completely forgotten they were yelling at each other. 

“No, not really. Oli and I are on break, and Till came out from his hidey hole to talk to him. We just ate, you missed out,” explained Schneider. “What’s the matter with him?” He jerked his head towards Richard. “He looks like shit.”

“No need to remind me,” Richard muttered, looking down at the street.

“I think he got food poisoning,” stated Paul. “I might give Flake a call just in case it might be something more serious.”

Schneider raised his eyebrows. “Really Paulchen? Isn’t that going a bit far? I mean.. it’s just food poisoning.”

“Yes I know, but I just wanna make sure it’s nothing else. Now I won’t hear another word against it. I’ll see you when you get back. C’mon Richard,” Paul said, tugging on the other man’s wrist. Before Richard could take even two steps, Schneider stopped him with a hand to his stomach and leaned in to whisper in his ear. Richard felt his heart drop at the sudden contact. 

“You’re very lucky to have Paul by your side. You’d better treat him well.” warned Schneider. Richard nodded without saying a word, satisfied with the response, Christoph let the other man go. Paul was looking at him curiously, as if to ask ‘what did he want?’ but thankfully he didn’t vocalise it, instead he let himself be guided into the pub by Paul who sat him down in one of the booths.

“Stay there please.” Insisted Paul. “I’m going to call one of my friends over to take a look at you.”

“Not like I have a choice, do I?” 

“Nope. Now be quiet please.” said Paul, scanning the room for the phone, which was right near where Till and Oliver were standing and chatting idly. 

“Excuse me boys, I just need to use the phone,” Paul interrupted their conversation, quickly grabbing the phone.

“Hi Paulchen! Why the rush?” Till asked cheerily. “And who is he?” he pointed towards the slightly now pale Richard. “I don’t think I’ve seen him in here before.”

“He’s.. well… He’s my..”

“He’s Paul’s prettyboy who he never shuts up about.” Oliver said bluntly. “I don’t know whether it’s a good or a bad thing that you finally get the privilege of hearing Paul talk only about him.”

Till quirked a brow in interest. “I’d like to meet him. If Paul thinks that highly of him, he must be quite a catch!”

“Both of you, shut _up_ for just _one_ minute! Let me make this damn call and we can talk more about this shit in a second!” Paul snapped, now dialing the number and waiting for his friend to pick up.

“Hello?”

Paul sighed in relief that he had answered. “Flake! Are you busy at all right now?”

“Not at the moment. Did you need something?”

“Yeah, I did, actually. My da-,” he cut himself off. “..friend got sick a while after we went out to eat and I just wanted to make sure it’s not food poisoning or anything more serious. If that isn’t too much to ask, of course.”

“Tell me where you are and I’ll be there as soon as I can. It will be a few minutes though, I just got out of the shower.”

“But you sai- nevermind. I’m at the bar. Should I give him water or something to hold up until you come?”

“Yes. Give him a cold water, or any sort of electrolyte solution. I’ll be going off to get ready, now. See you when I get there,” Flake hung up before Paul had a chance to say goodbye.

“What the _fuck_ is an electrolyte solution?” He asked suddenly, once more interrupting Oliver and Till’s conversation. 

“Pretty much what gets you back on your feet when you feel like dog shit,” Oliver shrugged. “I dunno.”

“Can I meet your friend now?” Till asked eagerly. 

“Why are you so eager to meet him? He’s not _all_ that.” Oliver slightly tilted his head in confusion.

“Like I said, if Paul thinks this highly of someone I would like to meet them.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, shut the fuck up already and just follow me if you wanna meet him that bad, then,” Paul said in clear annoyance with a scrunched face, a cold water now in hand for Richard.

Beginning to walk off to his loverman, Till followed closely behind. “When did you meet him?”

“A week or two ago. Something like that.” Paul was quick to switch up the subject once he had reached the sick man. “Hey Richard, I got you some water. My friend said to drink it until he got here. Oh and uh, this is my boss, Till.”

“H-how do you do sir?” asked Richard as he lifted his head up from the booth’s table, nervously offering his hand to the other man. Till assessed Richard’s face carefully, as though as if he was trying to find out if Richard was genuine or not. Till then quirked his mouth into a small smile and took the other man’s hand and shook it.

“I’m well, thank you. And must be Richard?” Till questioned as he let go of his hand.

“Yes I am, sir.”

“I assure you, there is no need to be so formal,” Till said with a slight chuckle. “Please, just call me Till.”

Lightly biting on the inside of his lip, and glancing at Paul, Richard nodded and responded with a simple ‘okay.’

Till clapped his hands together. “Right, well. Now I must get back to speaking with Ollie before our break ends. It was nice meeting you Richard, I hope we can speak again soon. Get well,” he smiled and walked off to resume the conversation he and Oliver were having.

Richard waited until Till was out of earshot and turned back to Paul with whatever colour that came back to his face, left immediately.

“Are you friends with _only_ terrifying men?” Richard asked hoarsely, and at the same time attempted to lower his voice for only the bartender to be able to hear him

Paul pushed down his bubbling laughter at the question. “No. I don’t think you’ll be scared of Flake in the slightest once he arrives,” he said, sitting down next to Richard. “What makes you so terrified of my friends? They’re honestly really nice.” 

Nearly choking on his drink, Richard began to beat his chest amidst his now harsh coughing. “Maybe Till isn’t, or that other tall bald guy, but _him_?” he nudged his head in Schneider’s direction. “I’m scared of him. I swear to God, he’s gonna kill me for just being around you.”

“Why are you so scared of him, Richard? He’s not all bad,” Paul frowned, only to remember the encounter that he and Schneider had earlier that night. “..Ah. Right.”

Richard sipped his water, trying to get rid of the feel of nausea that hit again. “I’m terrified of him because I don’t know what he’s going to be up to next. I know he’s thinking of knocking me out as we speak. He probably doesn’t want you hanging around someone like me.”

Paul sighed, lightly pinching the bridge of his nose as he took a moment to think about his next words. “Listen, Schneider is only looking out for me. I told you what happened back in highschool, and he only wants what he thinks is best for me. He can go overboard with the protection, and I apologize on his behalf, considering that you are my friend and he shouldn’t be treating you like this; especially since I have not said anything ill of you. Look, I’ll talk to him and tell him to take it easy on you, but I can’t guarantee his niceness toward you right away. It takes him a while to warm up to people.”

A wave of silence washed over them. Richard chewed on the inside of his cheek. “I get that, I guess. Kinda hard to comprehend shit like this if you’ve never had the same kinda experience, y’know?” 

Paul looked down at his folded, fidgety hands that sat in his lap. “Yeah. You’re right, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be trying to defend his actions after seeing how he feels about you. But I promise,” he looked up at Richard, who once more rested his head on the table. “I will talk to him for you, if it will put your mind at ease.” 

“Thank you.” Richard gave Paul a relieved smile, slightly lifting his head up so his words weren’t muffled by his jacket’s sleeve. “I really do appreciate it.”

Paul returned the smile gratefully. “It’s not a problem at all. I don’t want my friends hating each other for no reason. I don’t like getting involved in drama, but for you, I’ll try to change Chris’ mind about you.”

“You’re sickeningly sweet, you know that?” Richard sat up, looking at Paul smugly. “You’re not the kind of person I’d expect working at a bar.”

“Well, gotta get by somehow, don’t I?” Paul leant back on the seat, feeling the rips and tears on the cheap leather. “It’s enough that I have to work with the same guys I see every single day. I hope one day I’m able to catch a break, settle down, finally live on my own and find an actual well paying job. Maybe even adopt a pet so I’m not as lonely. A puppy, specifically.”

“Puppy, huh? I’m more of a kitten kind of man,” Richard stated proudly. 

That took Paul by surprise. “Kittens? You seem like the kind of guy who would adopt huge dogs. But since you mentioned it.. yeah! You do look like a cat man.”

“I like dogs, but I feel more homey with cats. They’re smaller and cuter. I want a cat, but I don’t by any means necessarily have the money to adopt and take care of one. But there is this black stray that lurks around the apartments I live at though. I feed her sometimes, if I have the food. She’s a cute little shit.”

Paul smiled at Richard’s sudden rambling. “Do you have a name for her?”

“Yeah! I named her Misty. Since it’s getting colder, I might try and sneak her into my apartment. Don’t know if the landlord would like that but I don’t give a shit. She’s well behaved. I don’t know how I’ll get the money for those piss pads and cat food, but I’ll figure something out.”

Richard seemed very zoned out as he spoke, as though it was mindless. Paul thought it was cute how much he cared for this cat. “Maybe one day I can meet her?”

He took another large gulp of his now nearly empty glass. “Hell yeah you can. She’s a nice kitty. Doesn’t scratch, I think. She did the first time I saw her, but she’s warmed up to me since then.”

Before Richard could continue rambling about Misty, both men directed their attention to the jingle of the door. “Flake! Jesus fucking Christ, you’re finally here!” Paul exclaimed, getting up from his seat to jog toward him. “A few minutes my _ass_ , Lorenz. It’s been 20 minutes!”

“I had to stop by the store and get electrolyte solution for your friend, Paul. Calm down. I got a few other things as well. I apologize, I should have told you before I did so,” Flake said calmly, handing a bag to Paul. “Is that your friend in the booth?”

Paul looked in the bag before leading Flake to the booth. “Yeah. He’s been feeling a little better since you told me to give him water, but it looks like he doesn’t have the energy to get up yet. Richard, this is my friend Flake. He’s gonna help you with the food poisoning.”

“Oh, hey.” Richard said coolly, face pale once more from the constant repeat of nausea coming and going. “Is the bag gonna be my savior?”

Paul rolled his eyes, putting it in front of Richard. “Yeah. You can thank Flake. I’ll pay you back for this later, so don’t start complaining,” he turned back to the nurse. 

“I wouldn’t mind if you didn’t. It wasn’t as expensive as I expected, but the pay would be nice. How do you feel right now, Richard?” Flake sat down in the seat opposite of the sick man. 

“Like shit. I feel like throwing up my guts. But like, the feeling comes back and then it goes away. I feel like I’m gonna pass out at any second too. The water and Paul stirring up conversation are the only things keeping me awake.” 

“When did you last vomit?” Flake reached into the bag for the solution to open it, then taking Richard’s empty glass and pouring the solution in. “Drink this. It will help maintain fluid balance.”

“Uh.. like, nearly an hour ago,” he reached for the drink and took a sip, gagging at the taste and swallowing quickly. “That tastes like fucking _shit_!” 

Paul laughed at his reaction to the taste, and Flake’s surprised expression. “You wanna get better, don’t you, big man? I can go get you another water if you don’t complain about the taste.” 

“Oh please fucking do. I will get on my knees and _beg_ for you to get me water,” Richard pleaded, folding his hands together and giving Paul, who was now smirking, a desperate look. He nodded and went off to grab a drink. 

“Um.. If it helps, you can plug your nose before you drink the solution. It’s the fastest way that you’ll get better, unless you want to wait and only eat toast and crackers for a few days.”

“Shit, but I have work tomorrow.. Fuck, okay, you’re the doctor here. I can’t lose my bullshit job now,” Richard brought up his hand to plug his nose before taking a bigger sip, cringing at the awful taste. Slowly, yet surely, the color began regaining into his face after that.

“I advise that you take the day off to rest tomorrow. Explain to your manager that you got food poisoning, and there should be no issue. I could get you a note, if you would like that better. You could drop it off before you go home tonight, if the place you work at is still open.”

In response to Flake, Richard only nodded, trying to force himself to drink more of the solution. “Bleh. I think the place is open until like, 12. Either way, I’d have enough time to let my asshole boss know in advance. It’s 7, isn’t it?”

“8:35, stupid.” Paul made his return and set the drink down in front of him, then taking a seat in the empty space next to him. “It’s been a while since we got back, Richie. Is he being good?” he questioned Flake, getting a look from Richard.

“Yes, he is. He complained about the solution, but I think I changed his mind once I mentioned only eating the same two things for a few days,” Flake said as he pushed up his glasses. “I told him to take the day off work tomorrow. How much longer do you think you’ll be needing me?”

“Well,” Paul sat up and cleared his throat. “I was hoping you could see if anything else is wrong with him. I’m worried that it might be something more than just food poisoning.”

Flake paused for a moment, examining Richard. His face had regained a bit more color since drinking more of the solution, and he seemed more awake than when Flake first arrived. “The worst that it could be is a flu, though even that I highly doubt. He seems much better than earlier.”

“Ah, that’s a relief!” Paul smiled. “Thank you so much for coming, Flake. I don’t think I could have even begun to figure out how to help Richie if it weren’t for you. How can I repay you?”

“Some brandy and DM 10,” Flake didn’t hesitate in the slightest for what he wanted his pay to be. “Could you just put it in a cup or something, so I can drink it when I get home? I don’t want to risk hurting myself on the way. You know I’m a lightweight.”

“A cup. A _cup_ , he says,” Paul joked, nudging the now cheeky-grinned Richard. “You want a large, medium, or a small?” he chortled. 

“A medium would be nice, Paul,” he narrowed his eyes, tilting his head down. The reflection of the dim light above them glared on his dirtied glasses. 

Immediately raising his hands in defense, Paul shouted, “I didn’t do nothin’! No need to get feisty!” he laughed sheepishly. “Gimme a sec- Till!” he yelled, earning a ‘shush’ from Richard, to whom he apologized. 

“What is it?” Till called back, walking closer to the trio so the need to yell was not a problem. 

“Do we have any of those soda cups they have like at the gas station? Specifically a medium?” he looked in Till’s direction. 

Slightly tilting his head in confusion, Till took a moment to remember. “I.. cannot say that we do. But I think Christoph might still have his from earlier on, when he grabbed lunch for us. Why do you need one, though?”

“My buddy Flake here, he came to help with Richard ‘cause I don’t know what I’m doing, and I asked him how I could pay him back and he asked if he could get a free drink and some money from me. I’ll pay for it, just clean out the cup and put some brandy in it.”

Till altered his gaze to Flake, who hung his head down and only spared a glance his way. “No, that’s alright. I believe that his helping Richard is good enough pay,” he smiled. “Give me a few minutes and I’ll be out with the drink.”

“Thanks so much, Till!” Paul returned the smile, watching as he went off to talk to Schneider about it. “You can wait in your car and I can bring it out for you if you want, Flake,” he offered, though only desperately wanted to talk to Richard just a little longer.

“No, thank you for the offer, though. It’s chilly out,” Flake said as he looked out the window, examining the sky. It was filled with gray clouds, the color a fine mix of blues ranging from light to dark. 

Internally cursing Flake, Paul slouched in his seat and mumbled angrily to himself. “Y-You can just like, turn the heat on. It won’t be long. C’mon, you might as well!” he kept going. 

Flake gave him a mildly annoyed look. “While not an excessive amount, just sitting in the car while it’s heating up takes up fuel, which I’m already low on. No thank you Paul. I’ll just wait. In your words: ‘it won’t be long.’”

Paul buried his face in his hands, suppressing the urge to scream. Richard’s incessant gags after every single drink he took of the electrolyte solution did not help how annoyed he was feeling. For the sake of not infecting anyone with his sour mood, Paul kept his mouth shut. 

The silence between the three was painfully awkward, spare for Richard’s occasional coughing. “So, uh,” he began, giving in to the urge to have _some_ kind of conversation. “Nice weather we’re having.”

Paul snorted. “No, I don’t think it is.”

“Look buddy, the silence is pissin’ me off. Bare with me here,” Richard said with a huff, propping up his arm to rest his cheek on his hand. “Excuse me for trying to not lose my mind. I have enough quiet at home.”

“You’ll live, now stop being such a drama queen and finish drinking the solution. You’re almost done.”

Richard whined and Paul’s eyes hardened.

“ _Now_. Please? If not for anyone else, then for me?”

Letting out a sigh, Richard plugged his nose and drained the last of the drink with a bitter expression.

Paul’s expression lightened as he smiled in satisfaction. “Good. Now was that so hard?”

“Ah shut up, will ya?” Richard groaned miserably. “God, the aftertaste is fucking _awful_.”

“Fine, then. Vomit all you want,” Paul said, folding his arms. “You better not come crying to me when you feel like passing out because you’re hungry and dehydrated.”

“Anyway,” Flake said, clearing his throat to gather their attention. “I’m going to head off now before it gets any colder than it already is. I suppose the drink can wait another day.”

“Ah, but I’ve already gotten it for you!” Till chimed in, a white and red soda cup in hand. “Why not just stay a bit longer? No harm in doing so.”

“Ah, w-well!” stammered Flake. “I really shouldn’t.. I don’t think that would end up good for anybody.”

“Well, you can blame me, then,” Till said with a wide smile. “I’m sure Paul wouldn’t mind driving you home if you’re unable to. Right, Paulchen?”

Paul caught on to what he was doing, sighing ‘yes, sir,’ and muttering something inaudible after, causing Richard to laugh.

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to stay a bit longer, in that case. You mind if I go off to talk to your boss, Paul?” Flake asked while he stood up, keeping a hand on the table.

“Go before I change my mind. Shoo. Go,” Paul waved him off with an eye roll, watching as he left to talk to his boss. He was lying if he said he wasn’t grateful for the extra time he got to spend with Richard, though.

“You were pretty eager to get rid of him,” said Richard, amused at the other man’s sudden annoyance with Flake. “Not complaining though. No more having to feel awkward about whatever comes out of my mouth. Your friend seems way too sophisticated for me,” he yawned.

Paul let out a small laugh. No feel to it, but he enjoyed the little comment he threw in. “Yeah, he wasn’t always as serious as he is today. In highschool he was serious, but not _as_ serious, you know? I think that it took a turn when he decided he wanted to be a doctor.”

Richard nodded, forcing down a yawn and rubbing his tired eyes, putting his hands down with movements similar to that of a ragdoll. He gave Paul an exhausted smile, too tired to word what he thought, but Paul could plainly tell that it was one of gratitude. 

Completely (but not entirely) zoned out, Paul subconsciously leaned in closer to him with hopes that he would snatch a kiss. Richard, being the oblivious - albeit tired - fuck that he is, took that as an invitation to finally rest up using Paul’s shoulder as a pillow.

Upset as he was, Paul instead thought that ‘this will do.’ Something was better than nothing. 


	6. Ein Heilmittel gegen Krankheit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul takes Flake and Richard home and ends up discovering a bit about Richard's past. Intimacy starts to blossom between them.

**08/09/91 ; 21:08**

Paul felt annoyed. Not because Richard, who was currently passed out from exhaustion, was leaning all his weight on his shoulder, or the fact that he had passed out at the worst possible moment just when he was about to kiss him- it was Schneider eyeing them both down with a smug expression on his face as if to say  _ ‘I saw that.’  _ Paul sent him a warning glare. He couldn’t deal with more of his constant incessant teasing. 

He wished Flake would hurry up and get back so he could take them both home already. He sighed and tapped his fingers on the table impatiently, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw a skinny figure in his sight. Flake made his way back to Paul with a glass of brandy in hand, his cheeks tinged pink. He then sat opposite Paul with an uncharacteristically goofy smile on his face.

“What the fuck took you so long?” hissed Paul. “I thought you were just going to talk to Till!”

Flake, who was still grinning, took a sip from his brandy before answering. “I did.” he answered with a slur. “He gave me that drink and offered some more, and of course I accepted. One turned into another and another and so on and so forth. And we got chatting and I must have lost track of time. Sorry Paulchen, but you’ll never guess what I managed to get!”

Paul’s irritation vanished and was immediately replaced by curiosity. “What? A dick up your ass?”

Instead of acknowledging the comment, Flake reached into his pants pocket to grab a piece of paper, and gave it to Paul who saw that a number had been scribbled on it. Till’s number, specifically.

Paul’s eyes widened. “Why the hell do you have my boss’ number?”

“Let’s just say we’re beyond well acquainted now,” Flake said with a wink, his cheeks now a brighter pink.

The sudden realization hit him like a truck. “Is that why you were taking so long? You were swapping spit?”

“I  _ miiight _ have been,” said Flake with a teasing tone. “I mean, I’ve had a thing for him for a while.

“What?!” said Paul, dumbfounded. “I didn’t know this! How long have you been keeping this from me?”

“You have terrible observation skills then, Paul,” snorted Flake. “Remember that day back in high school where Till got that letter from a secret admirer? That was me. I actually told him that it was from me while I was over there talking to him just now. I don’t think I've ever seen him that delighted before. He said it was very poetic and it just so happens he’s into that sort of thing.”

Paul could only stare at his friend in awe. “Oh wow dude, congrats. Did he ask you out?”

“Yes he did, actually. He wants to come around to my place on the weekend,” Flake said with a small smile. He tore his gaze away from Paul to Richard who was, amazingly, still asleep. “He looks like death warmed up. We really should get going and get him home safely.” 

“You have  _ no  _ clue how long I’ve been wanting you to say something. I can’t even feel the blood flow in my arm,” Paul groaned in annoyance. “I gotta get you home safely too, y’know. Like fuck you’re driving drunk. So much for a short ride.”

Flake shrugged. “I’m not going to decline free drinks, Paul. If it’s not an issue, maybe tomorrow you could pick me up to drive me to my car?”

“I don’t have much of a choice here,” Paul sighed roughly through his nose. “I have to do the same with Richard. Let me just get him up and we’ll go. Go warm up my car, here’s the keys,” he reached into his jacket pocket, sliding the keys over to the man in front of him. “Don’t even think about driving off. Sit in the back, Richard’s gonna point out where he lives for me.”

Taking the keys and standing up with a slight stumble, Flake responded; “alright. I take it I’m going home first, then. Thank you so much Paul. You’re a saint,” he shot a smile Paul’s way before heading out to do as he said. 

Tapping his fingers on the torn seat, Paul hesitantly reached out to nudge Richard awake. He always felt bad whenever he had to wake someone up; especially when they looked as peaceful as he did. “C’mon, big guy. We gotta get goin’.”

Richard’s eyes fluttered awake, though still half lidded with tiredness. “How long was I out for?” he yawned midway through the question, lifting his head off Paul’s shoulder to stretch his arms and legs.

While grateful for being able to feel his arm again, Paul already missed the weight of Richard on his shoulder. “Long enough for you to consider it a power nap. Let’s go, you look exhausted. I don’t need you getting a bad night’s sleep in the booth of a pub,” he said while getting up, offering a hand to the sleepy man.

“I think I should be good for directions to my place.” Richard took Paul’s hand, who helped him out of the booth and back up on his feet. “So you’re gonna help me with my car tomorrow?”

“Yep.” Paul led Richard to the door, still holding his hand. Not because he wanted to; that was plain to see, but rather because he didn’t want Richard slamming his face into a door. “I’m gonna do the same with Flake, he’s drunk off his ass! Don’t worry about your tired self though, you can call me when you’re ready tomorrow.”

“You’re the best.” Richard rubbed the back of his aching neck. “Uh, is your friend going home first or..?”

“Again, yes. Flake doesn’t live far from here. I don’t know where you live, so I’d rather spare him the pain of listening to you trying to direct me to your apartment. How far do you live, anyway?” Paul opened the passenger door to his car, carefully helping Richard in. 

“Uh.. 15 to 20 minutes. Depends on traffic,” Richard said, lazily trying to buckle up. “Can I sleep on the way to your friends?”

“I guess. Just know I’m gonna wake you up when I drop him off. How’re you holding up back there, Flake?” Paul peeked behind the passenger seat, seeing him lying down in an uncomfortable position.

“I’m okay,” he slurred. “Did you wake your boyfriend up?”

As if on cue, Paul’s face went red. “H-He’s not my damn boyfriend! Yeah, I got him up!” he harshly closed Richard’s door, walking around to the driver’s seat and getting in.

“I’m not?” Richard stuck his bottom lip out, only worsening Paul’s mood.

“Shut  _ up,  _ Richard!” he whisper-yelled. 

“Yeah, okay,” Flake sneered, laughing at Richard’s comment. “Let’s get going. I have work tomorrow,” he hiccuped.

“That hiccup says otherwise. Don’t come whining to me about how you’re late for work and have a bad hangover.” Paul slammed his door shut and buckled up, shifting the car stick and looking back as he backed out of the lot.

“I know how to take care of myself during a hangover. I’ll just wake up an hour earlier than I usually do, so I have time to get rid of it.” Flake now sat upright, looking out the window. 

Rather than responding, Paul only shook his head with a sigh of disappointment. Flake did often take care of him during hangovers, though. He had no doubt that he couldn’t tend to himself, but couldn’t help but worry for him. Hangovers were always a pain in the ass, especially for Flake. It felt like it took an eternity to get rid of one. 

In the corner of his eye, Paul could already see Richard dozing off again. He huffed with a smile, catching himself staring. He was not about to be responsible for two other people’s hospital bills because he chose to stare.  _ ‘Focus on the road, Landers. Not the man,’  _ he told himself.

While driving, he saw the park he and Richard were previously at, barely illuminated by the street lights. It was fun, but better if you ignore the fact Richard poured both his heart  _ and _ his guts out there. Paul tore his eyes from it, lightly tapping his fingers on the wheel. Paul thought it would be nice to finally have a new route to go, after Richard tells him where he lives, obviously. Not in a creepy way, though! Only when Richard would want him to, of course. 

Instinctively, Paul reached for the radio to play  _ something  _ to fill the silent void, but jumped and jerked his hand back once he heard Flake snoring. Loudly, at that. He was annoyed that he was gonna have to sit with that for another few minutes, but at least it wasn’t  _ too _ long. He was surprised it wasn’t Richard being obnoxiously loud; but instead he was rather quiet. 

Paul was upset he was gonna have to deal with Flake’s snores, but it was somewhat better than dead silence. He wouldn’t have been able to turn up the radio as loud as he wanted anyway - he’d have to keep it at a low volume. Low enough to hear, but not loud enough to drown out the snoring. 

His thoughts were interrupted by the voice of Richard saying, “Your friend is loud as fuck,” huffing a laugh following his sentence.

“No shit,” Paul whispered, grinning. “Did he wake you?”

“Yeah. Was having sweet dreams, sleepin’ like a baby, and then I thought we were in like, a fucking tornado or something. Nope. Just your friend being loud as fuck,” Richard’s voice slightly rose, pressing his head against the glass, watching the outlines of buildings and trees passing by.

_ Sweet dreams, huh? _ Paul thought, now curious, though chose against asking what they were. If anything, it was just Richard livin’ la vida loca. “Sorry about him! He’s a loud sleeper, but just a few more minutes and then I’ll drive you home and continue your sweet dreams in the comfort of your bed.”

“Hmm, good,” Richard grunted, voice thick with drowsiness. “I feel like sleeping for a  _ week _ .”

Paul laughed lightly. “Yeah, food poisoning will do that to you.”

“Hey, Paul?” He asked suddenly.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“Back at the bar, when I was just about to pass out...what were you trying to do?” Richard looked to him with tired eyes. “You leaned forward.. at least, I think you did.”

Paul could feel his heart beating out of his chest. “I...well… um, you looked like you were going to pass out so I wanted to, uh, catch you. So your head didn’t hit the table?” he glanced over to Richard with a sheepish smile.

Richard took a moment before replying simply, “You have a good heart Paul. Thanks.”

While it was an unexpected answer, Paul was relieved Richard hadn’t figured out that he had tried to kiss him. “Uh...Thanks.” said Paul, surprised by the kind comment.

“I mean it, though. You’re a good person with a good heart. I wish I could say the same for the other people in my life,” Richard sighed, shifting his head off to the side as if attempting to crack his neck. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” asked Paul, tapping his fingers on the wheel to whatever beat was playing in his head. “Only if you’re comfortable.”

“It’s a long story, so I’ll spare boring you with the details, but the gist of it is that I just attract shitty people.  _ Especially  _ my parents. I don’t really have a good relationship with them. I thought I had friends, but like you, they used me for all sorts of shit. I guess we’re similar in that regard,” Richard let out a yawn and popped his fingers with his thumbs. “I think that’s why I like being alone. It’s better than being let down and hurt by people, y’know? Sometimes I just wanna shut myself out from everyone.”

Paul felt a pang of sadness in his heart. Did he really feel like that all the time? So.. depressed? He figured that something traumatic must have happened to the other man that made him cut off people like that. He wanted to know more so he could help him in some way, but he didn’t want to push Richard into talking about such things that could make him more upset than he already seemed to be, so he decided to leave his questions for later on. 

“We are similar in that way, yeah, but don’t talk about yourself like that please. If it makes you feel a little better, I’ll always be here for you if you want to talk about anything. Even though we barely know each other, you mean a lot to me.” He then held out his left hand to Richard, while keeping his right on the wheel. Richard stared at Paul outstretched hand and then tentatively grabbed it, threading his fingers through Paul’s own. The feeling was comforting.

“Thanks.. you mean a lot to me, too,” Richard said, giving Paul’s hand a slight squeeze.

A small smile formed on Paul’s face as he squeezed back. “You should rest your eyes for a little. You sound like you’re ready to pass out again.”

Richard huffed. “I would, but Flake’s constant snoring is keeping me from doing that,” he nudged his head back to him. While he was sleeping peacefully, Flake was loud and disrupting the moment.  _ So much for  _ trying  _ to be genuine with Richard any longer. _

“Ah, that’s fair enough,” Paul said with a small, empty laugh. “Well we’re about to pull up to his neighborhood, so we don’t have to suffer any more.” He put his focus back on the road, slowing his current speed so he doesn’t miss Flake’s home.

“Town Homes?” Richard yawned. “I forgot these even existed. Why doesn’t he just live in an apartment like the rest of us? Us being, uh, people living by themselves.”

Paul laughed again, though this time it was genuine. “He says he likes the space, and it was the only place he found and liked that would accept animals. I think he told me he turned one of the bedrooms into like, a work room or something like that. I have no clue what he did with the other one. Probably kept it as a guest room. I haven’t been to his place in a while.”

“Mm. I guess I can respect a man who likes living with animals over people.” Richard leaned back in his seat while he spoke, looking at the neighborhood. Some houses had light coming from the rooms, most did not. 

“I live with animals and I hate it,” Paul joked. “I mean, not animals! I’ve been living with my best friends for years, if you didn’t already realize what I’ve been saying. I love them to death but they can be a  _ lot _ sometimes. Feels like I have no privacy,” he elaborated. 

Richard nodded. “I get that. I mean, after living alone as long as I have, you get used to it. But sometimes I wish that I had a roommate to fuck around with. The TV and radio aren’t enough to fill the silence. Jesus  _ Christ,  _ that sounded edgy!” he laughed, and coughed almost immediately after.

Paul snorted at the laugh. It was contagious, but he couldn’t lose focus yet. “It’s alright! I get it. Maybe we can wear each other’s shoes for a day, huh? Oh, shit, hold on. That’s his place. Give me a second.” he pulled up to Flake’s home, unbuckling so he could get up and help him. He realized he would have to let go of Richard’s hand, which  _ sucked,  _ but he wasn’t about to watch Flake stumble over and spend an eternity looking for the right key. 

Sighing softly through his nose, Paul waited a good minute before letting go and getting out of the car. He swore he could have felt Richard’s hand graze his own after letting go, as if to imply he didn’t want Paul to do so, but shook the thought out of his head. He opened the door to the backseat and nudged Flake’s shoulder. “Wake up, doc. You’re home.” 

He watched as Flake lazily opened his eyes, pushing himself up from the seat. “Am I?” he asked while adjusting his crooked glasses. “Oh. Yes. I am.” He took the hand Paul offered to help pull him out of the car, now holding his head in pain as he was led to the front door. 

Fumbling with his keys, Flake struggled to find the right one. Before he could even ask Paul for help, he snatched the keys and was quick to find the correct one, quickly opening the door. “Are you gonna need help getting to your room?”

To that Flake shook his head no. “Thank you for the ride, Paulchen. You said you’ll help me with my car tomorrow?” he asked, taking the keys from Paul and slowly entering. 

“Yup. Just call me when you’re up in the morning and I’ll pick you up to grab it. Can’t promise I’ll answer right away, but I’ll try my best.” Paul stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets, backing up from the door. “Have a good night, Flake.”

“You too, Paulchen,” he said with a small smile, watching him back up. “Thank you, again. I really do appreciate it.”

“It’s no problem.” By now, Paul had turned around, now waving goodbye to Flake. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He watched Flake wave back, then close the door. Staying for a brief moment to make sure he would be fine, he left back to the car once he figured it would be okay. He opened the passenger’s door and got in, relaxing his shoulders the second he sat down.

“Poor guy. He’s gonna sleep well tonight, isn’t he?” 

“Mhm. So am I. I can’t believe I have to nanny the both of you,” grumbled Paul, strapping himself in and starting up the ignition, beginning to back out and drive off.

“I’m sorry,” said Richard apologetically. “If I hadn’t gotten sick, none of this would’ve happened and you wouldn’t have to drive me home.”

“What are you talking about? I didn’t say I hate taking care of the both of you.” Paul laughed lightly. “I love taking care of my friends, I go through this every time Oliver, Till and Schneider go out drinking. There’s nothing to apologize for.”

“Thanks. I wish more people were like you. When I get drunk and I ask for a ride, people tend to think of me as some annoying deadbeat. Few people have actually said that to my face, the first time hurt, but the more they kept saying it, the more I numbed myself to it. It sucks, but it’s worse coming from your own parents.” Richard laughed bitterly, contempt spreading on his face.

“What? Your own  _ parents _ ?” asked Paul, staring at Richard with wide eyes. What sort of parents would say that to their own child? He felt anger on Richard’s behalf.

“Yep. That ain’t half of it. They called me that because I can’t really hold a job for that long. A part of me actually agrees with them in some way...I can’t blame them for thinking that, because they’re right. But I’ll never forgive them for kicking me out to live on the streets when they found out that I’m-” Abruptly, Richard stopped talking.

“What? What did they kick you out for?” Paul urged. He darted his eyes quickly to Richard, who was staring mindlessly out of the window. He saw that his hand was clenching and unclenching. Paul then put his eyes back on the road. He knew something was up. “You know you can tell me anything you want to, right?”

“I know. I- you know what? Forget everything I told you,” Richard said, shaking his head. “It’s not something that you should be worried about.”

“It most certainly fucking is. Now I want to know. Why did they kick you out?”

Paul could hear Richard’s foot tapping nervously on the car floor, clearly debating whether to tell Paul or not. He could practically hear the gears turning in his head.

“I-I want to tell you,  _ believe  _ me - I do. But I can’t,” Richard forced out, attempting to hide his cracking voice, though miserably failing at doing so. That’s what made Paul’s concern rise.

“Why not?”

“Because if I do, you’ll hate me and call me a freak like everyone else has.”

“I _ promise _ you I won’t,” Insisted Paul. “I’m not one to call anyone a freak unless it’s someone that likes to put pineapple on pizza.”

Richard let out a shaky laugh before answering. “I got kicked out because I like guys, okay?” he said it so quietly that Paul almost missed it. 

“That’s it?” asked Paul in disbelief. “That’s why they kicked you out? Because you like dudes instead of girls?”

“Well yeah, I guess I’m not the perfect son,” Richard said with a shrug.

“They’re shit parents, then,” said Paul in disgust. “Forget about them, what matters is that you’re here with me and, that’s all that matters right now. You’re one hell of a guy, Richard. You’re good looking, funny, and don’t shit from anyone.” He threw Richard a quick supportive smile, which was met with a mixture of something akin to happiness and gratitude with a smile of his own.

“Thank you. For not pushing me away, I mean,” Richard said softly.

“Why would I do that? If it helps at all, I love men too,” said Paul. “Of course I haven’t been through the same situations as you, but I understand the coming out part.”

“Oh.” Richard was surprised. “How did your parents take it?”

“My father took it well, I think he had an inkling that I was always into guys. My mother was great too, but she was pretty damn surprised.”

“Well, they seem like better parents compared to mine. What about your friends? How did they react when you came out?”

Paul laughed, his eyes crinkling as he did. “Very well. After I told them, they didn’t stop making jokes about it. They’re funny, but they get tiring after a while.”

“They would,” agreed Richard. “Hey, Paul?”

“Hm?”

“Would you mind if I hold your hand again?” Richard mumbled.

“Of course you can,” Paul said as he outstretched his hand. He felt Richard’s hand slip into his and intertwined his fingers with his own.

“Your hand is so nice, Paul,” Richard said softly as he rubbed the other man’s knuckles with his thumb.

“Thanks. Yours is too,” Paul said, softening his tone of voice to be as quiet as Richard’s. He could feel his face burning up. 

While he didn’t want the moment to end, and wanted to sit in comfortable silence, Paul had to ask Richard for the directions. It wasn’t until he finally drove out and away from the neighborhood that he asked, “So, um.. where do I go next?”

Richard was quick to snap his head up to face Paul, rather than the floor. “Oh, shit, right. Uh, just go back to the bar and go straight from there. I’ll tell you when to take a turn.” 

Paul nodded, taking the same route he took to get to Flake’s. Truth be told, he was anxious to see how Richard lived, but already knew what to expect of it. A messy, overpriced, shithole apartment. Shithole in the way that appliances couldn’t run, and electricity was an overall pain in the ass. The kind where you never know when it’ll randomly go off.

He tapped his fingers against the wheel, chewing on the inside of his cheek. He stopped once he felt Richard’s hand squeeze his own, seemingly in reassurance. “You’re anxious, I can tell. What’s up?” 

“It’s nothing. Just don’t really know what to expect once we get there,” Paul said with a quiet laugh. “I mean, I’m not going to be surprised if it’s a complete mess. I just- you know where I’m going with this. Do I turn here?” He slowed, only barely.

“Yeah. I know what you mean. It’s not  _ as _ bad as you think it is, Paulie,” he let out a big yawn. “But it’s still bad. Don’t yell at me for not being clean. I’m a busy man. I- no I’m not. Well, I am, but I could definitely manage to live in a place that isn’t equivalent to a fucking warzone.”

Paul snickered. “Why would I yell at you? I can’t even keep my room clean for a  _ day.  _ Granted, I do share it with someone else, but still. If I do end up yelling, you have every right to yell back.”

“You share a room? Harsh.”

“It’s not as bad as I made it sound! Look, the house I live at has 2 rooms, and we agreed that Oli and I would share the master bedroom and Schneider would stay by himself in the other one. It was quite an argument, since he wanted to both have his own room  _ and _ have a bathroom to himself.”

Richard went quiet, and Paul let out another laugh since he already knew why. “What? Are you honestly surprised that I live with them? I thought it was obvious. I’ve mentioned living with people before,  _ plus  _ we’re best friends and we work the same job. What more evidence do you need?”

“I-I don’t know! I thought you would live alone!” Richard defended himself, Paul’s smile growing bigger at his stutter. “Not my fault I don’t know what to expect from you, Paul. You’re full of surprises.”

“You learn something new about me every day.” Paul teased. “Not like you’re any better. I didn’t think you would get food poisoning, but here we are. I’m driving you home and you’re about to knock out.”

“Hey, I’ll fuckin’ pass my poisoning on over to you!”

He scoffed. “Richard. We are holding hands. I think you already  _ are _ giving it to me.”

“Good. Then we can suffer together like men,” Richard chortled. 

“Asshole,” Paul mumbled with an eye roll. 

“Thank you, I excel in being just that! Turn there and go straight,” Richard said, pointing to the left turn. “We’re almost there. Few more minutes.”

Paul slightly sped up as he took the turn. Though he was still anxious, Richard’s sparking up a new conversation definitely helped ease it. “Just to get that ‘goodbye’ small talk out of the way, I uh, had a good time with you today. It surprises me that you still managed to stay the same despite being sick and tired.”

“I did too. Thanks for dealing with me. Honestly didn’t expect you to call a doctor, but I appreciate it. Hell, I didn’t even think you’d call. Your friend didn’t like, persuade you into thinking I’m just another drunk and that it’s not worth the time?”

“He did try to, yeah.” Paul glanced to a now worried Richard. Obviously he didn’t want to talk about this again, but it was all that would put him at ease. “...but he knows better than to think I’m just gonna judge a book by its cover. I think everyone can be good; even people who come to a bar every day. I know that Schneider can be a hardass, but he’s nice! I promise! He just needs time. I told you multiple times, I will talk to him, and I’m not gonna break that promise.”

“As soon as possible, please? I don’t want the dude to break my precious nose.”

“I would  _ never _ let him hurt you or your precious nose. I’ll talk to him first thing in the morning, okay? I’m going straight home after this. I plan to ring up Till after I drop you off and tell him I’m taking the rest of the night off. I’ll probably work overtime tomorrow to make up for the lost time.”

Richard nodded slowly. “I’d offer to talk on the phone until your friends got home but I’ll probably pass out upon getting into bed. Also, don’t fuckin’ overwork yourself! You being tired from having to drive me and your friend around is a good enough excuse to skip the rest of work. How long have you got left, anyway?”

“Trust me, I’ll be asleep by the time I hit the bed too. I’m supposed to get off in 2 hours, so I don’t think I’m missing much anyway. I worked most of today which I always do a full shift, so I don’t think  _ one  _ day will earn me a threat to be fired.”

“Oh, that’s good then. But didn’t us hanging out interfere with that?”

Paul took a second. And then he realized that he did, indeed, get off work to spend time with Richard. _Hanging out._ _Oh, Richard, you dense motherfucker._ “..yes. It did. Till knows, though. So I’ll see if I can work overtime regardless. I kinda need the pay to survive, you know?”

“Yeah, I know. I’m the same way. Except I’m pretty sure every boss I have has taken off money for my shitty performances. Whatever, though, money’s money. I’m happy with what I get as long as it’s enough to live.”

Paul felt bad. The guy has already had a tough life, and now he’s saying this shit. “Well, um, if you ever want a hand, I can help. We always have plenty of money left to waste after we pay our bills and all that, so I can give you some rent money maybe..?”

“Don’t do that. Please.” Richard tightened his grip on Paul’s hand. The last thing I need is someone’s pity money. You’re a good guy for offering, and believe me - I’d take it if I didn’t feel guilty in the end. Normally I wouldn’t, but you’re so nice it hurts.”

“Honest to God, Richard, I don’t mind. You’re struggling, obviously, so I’m more than happy to help with your case.”

Richard hung his head down, looking at his now bouncing leg. He desperately wanted to change the subject, and seeing his apartment complex really helped with that. “Up ahead is my place. It’s the first building on the right over there. 18.”

Paul nodded, noticing Richard’s want to change the subject, so he dropped it. “Okay. Are you gonna need help up? Or do you live on the first floor?”

“I’m on the third, unfortunately. I’d appreciate the help.” Richard stared at the complexes, scrunching his nose as if he had smelt something bad. To him, this place was literal garbage. He’d give anything to live somewhere at least  _ decent. _

Paul squinted as he drove by the various buildings, looking for 18 in the lights. Upon spotting it, he pulled into the closest parking near his building. “Not an issue,” he said, unbuckling and getting out of the car. 

Richard did the same, making his way around to Paul. Without any warning, he took his hand again. Much better than being led up with a hand on your back. The pair exchanged a look before going off to the painful trek that is 3 whole flights of stairs.

With his free hand, Richard held onto the stair’s rusty railing and stared at his shoes as he walked, as he was afraid that he would accidentally miss one as he’s done multiple times prior. He was surprised he hasn’t gotten brain damage from the amount of times he’s slipped and hit his head.

By the second flight, he could already feel his heart rate picking up. It was never an issue, not at all. He could run straight up and not feel the need to catch his breath. Only ever when he was sick would he feel like vomiting after the first flight. He felt Paul squeeze his hand, as just to remind him that he would be okay. 

He followed Paul up once more, though slowly this time. He felt like he was going to go tumbling down the stairs any second now; even with the death-grip he had on both Paul’s hand and the shaky railing. 

“Do you think you’re going to need help inside?” Paul asked with a soft tone, carefully helping Richard up the steps one by one. 

“Uh, no.” Richard could feel Paul put his other hand on his back, gently pushing him in front of him so he could get this done and over with and be in the comfort of his bed. “You’ve done more than enough tonight,” he said, hurrying up the final flight and leading Paul to his apartment.

“Anything for a friend,” Paul replied with a smile. “I wasn’t gonna let you just sit and suffer, Richie. So don’t thank me. It’s what any decent person would do in my position.”

Richard snatched his keys from his jacket pocket, single handedly fumbling with the key to unlock the door. He immediately put the keys back in once the door was open, and took a step inside.

From what Paul saw, it wasn’t as disastrous as Richard claimed it would be. Some dishes here and there, and by the looks of it, empty cups of microwavable foods. “Take care, Richard. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

He held Paul’s hand up, taking it with his other. They stayed like that for a moment that lasted too long until Richard slowly let go. “Yeah, you will. Have a nice rest of the night, Paul. Thanks again.” 

“Anything for you!”


End file.
